E- Fatty

E- Fatty

Status: Finished

Genre: Humor


Status: Finished

Genre: Humor


I have been writing several shorts stories describing some of my life experiences, mostly of sexual nature. You may find that E- Fatty is missing some detail in description, but that is because most of my stories interconnect; at the end the story makes sense and it will make you giggle a bit I promise. I appreciate any and all intellectual contributions as I'm looking to better my writing. Don't be afraid of reviewing honestly I can handle it. Thanks in advance.


I have been writing several shorts stories describing some of my life experiences, mostly of sexual nature. You may find that E- Fatty is missing some detail in description, but that is because most of my stories interconnect; at the end the story makes sense and it will make you giggle a bit I promise. I appreciate any and all intellectual contributions as I'm looking to better my writing. Don't be afraid of reviewing honestly I can handle it.
Thanks in advance.


Submitted: October 20, 2012

A A A | A A A


Submitted: October 20, 2012




E –Fatty

At this point I had been sex- less for over two months. It wasn’t the longest had gone without getting any, but it was a damn long time for sure. Especially if you had been getting a lot of it for a couple years straight. My social life was coming to a hole, as it usually happened to me after I ended a relationship. Not because of the typical “we had a bunch o mutual friends” thing, but because I had literally isolated myself from the entire world to please Mary.

Self pleassurization became extremely routinely and almost annoying. I needed an abrupt change quickly, so I decided to jump on the internet dating van- wagon. It seemed to work well for all of those people on the commercials right? Reality is that I thought of all of those people as losers. Actually I still do. As a matter of fact the only good thing that has ever happened to internet dating world is me.

During a boring Saturday night (drinking pathetically alone), I checked a couple of the most popular websites and tried joining in. I sadly discovered that those freaking things are expensive. They wanted me to pay something like seventy or eighty bucks to plaster my face in humiliation to the world for a month. Hell no!!! I mean yes, I was desperate for some nukie, but lowering my awesome self to their level was payment enough. I receded from the idea.

Fortunately for them, just couple of days later I caught a commercial of a promotional deal and I went for it. I can’t remember exactly how much I paid, but knowing my proudly frugal self, I know it wasn’t much. What I do remember is that I had two months of openly willing women, and all I needed was a little bit of luck and some game.

I will state the obvious (which is something that I hate FYI), but I feel that it is necessary to clarify just in case any one of you has not experienced this services yet. Everyone, and I mean everyone on these sites is looking to get laid quickly. Some of them, man and women, may act uptight and stiff when confronted with the thought, but at the end of the day that is the only reason they all shame themselves in to doing that shit. I can prove it.

I began filling up the “compatibility” questionnaire, which is the most ridiculous and extenuating thing in the world. They assure you that if you answer all of these questions honestly they will match you with your soul mate; Yes! That one that is out there for everyone, with the simple click of a mouse. That may be true. Who really knows? But frankly, who the hell is going to be honest on those things?  Pedophiles don’t advertise their intentions openly, so why should honest people looking for some fun point out their flaws?

I lied in that thing to the best of my ability. From wanting to have children, to being 5,9. Haha I barely make 5, 7 if I stand on my toes.  I lied on just about everything until I got to the “write about you” part. I clearly stamped on bald big letters that I was awesome and if they wanted to win me over they needed to be at least half as cool as I was. WELL, apparently my honesty did not go so well with the “oh so proud” E- ladies, and I didn’t get any responses to my profile for the first month and a half or so.

After determining my failure as an E- gigolo, I thought it would be a wise to modify my profile a bit in order to at least get laid once. I had to justify the money I spent!

 I went for the cute but outgoing look on my profile. I still have it in my files so it reads as follows:

I’m a simple man looking for the right person to share my life with. I absolutely love pets, a quite night in doors while watching a movie, and sipping some wine with friends. Traveling is my passion, and I can use a companion for all of my future adventures.

JJJEEEEZZZZ…. Leave the cheese out for the mouse man!!! I won’t lie to you guys; I love all of those things I mentioned there. I just don’t love to do them in the cheese lame way that I portrayed them on that stinking site.

To my eternal surprise, it worked. Yes, I began to get emails with in twenty-four hours of changing my profile. I easily got like twenty emails within two days. I kid you not!!! I couldn’t believe the shallowness of people. You cannot convince me that at least half of those women who e- mailed me had not seen my profile before. They were simply too stiff and stupid to accept the fact that my original profile was amazing, and that they were dying to meet me.

A bunch of the responses that I got were from absolute OGOS. I am good for a BW as long as they have something that makes me tingle down there, but these bitches were simply too much for anyone to take. Luckily for me, as there were zeros, there were tens. A coupe of the chicks that e-mailed me were absolute knockers. So much so that for a minute I thought it was kind of weird. In reality who gives a shit? Hot girl on picture wants you. You want to find out if it is for real. I ended up fucking the two hot ones, three of the average ones, went out with a dude (story will come up later), and banged a BBW who is the center of this story.

Every woman who emailed me got a response. I was kind of proud of the awesome massive response, so the least I could do was let them know I wasn’t interested. Molly was one of the many who got the “I’m looking for something different” email. The difference with her is that she wrote back. I don’t have the e-mail anymore so I’ll paraphrase.

“I understand that you are not in to me all that much, but I’m cool just for drinks if you are up to it. I didn’t really join this dating thing to get married. Actually that’s not what I want at all. You see, I’m moving from Long Island to Orlando in a couple of weeks for business (which was bullshit), and I need to meet some people around town. Let me know if you are interested.”

 As I had mentioned before, my wolf pack was that of one wolf. Get the movie reference??? Ha-ha I’m funny and you can’t convince me otherwise.  Anyhow, I was down for the drinking. I needed some friends around town too.

Two or three weeks of emails back and forth with Molly went by. She wasn’t a terribly ugly looking woman, she was just a “few pounds over”, as she stated in her profile, and her face wasn’t all that bad. God knows I’m a sucker for cute faces.  She could have been 500 pounds, but had a cute face and I’m all down in it. We finally met at a popular place near my house the first weekend after she arrived. I showed up early as I usually do. She showed up right on time, and I saw her roaming through the place for a while. She didn’t recognize me because clearly I am much cuter in person than I am in pictures. Molly finally worked her way through the table where I was sitting, and immediately order a shot of Yeager to celebrate our meeting. I didn’t have any shots for a while, because I didn’t want to get drunk and do something that I would regret latter. She was actually a pretty cool girl. Bar tender in NYC looking for a new adventure apparently. Moving for business my ass!!! 

I felt comfortable with her after an hour or so of chatting, so I started pounding Yeager and beer. Especially after she said it was all on her tab. She jabbered about her life story, and I lied about mine for three more hours. If you have ever had Yeager, you know that shots of that crap are very sneaky and will mess you up without notice. I can hold my liquor pretty well, but the black gold will do weird shit to my body. Three hours of the sweet stuff and I was in fatty heaven. Molly knew what she was doing. She played me man!!! As my drunkenness became obvious, Molly began massaging my arms cautiously at first with her fingers, and thereafter with the whole hand as she got comfortable. It felt good!!! Notably out of my element, Molly thought we had drank more than enough and asked for the check.

 I bounced around a little between tables as we made our way towards the parking lot. Her car was parked in the back of the place where street- lights were almost inexistent.  She told me that it would be best if she drove me home. She didn’t seem that drunk so I happily complied. Now thinking back, that bitch looked way to sober to be so cool; maybe she rufied me!!!  That’s not important any more. I got in to the passenger side of her Honda Civic expecting to go home. I was wrong. No hesitation and without even a little kiss, Molly was all in my zipper. She was skilled. That woman did things to me that I cannot seem to put in words, but believe me when I say they were awesome. 

Before I knew it, Molly had driven me to the shore of a lake (which are abundant in O’town), where she kept on giving me meticulous head.  Not long after we arrived, she was ready for some sweet loving.

Molly: you have a condom?

Me: Yea, they are in my wallet

To which she responded with a furious jump to get to the back of my pants.

Molly: there ain’t nothing in here

Me: OH SHIT, I left them in my car. You don’t have any?

Molly: NO!!! Why would I?

Really? Do I need to say anything here?

Molly: I got some in my luggage

I need to mention at this point that Molly was staying at a friend’s house who still lived with her parents, or so she told me.

Me: The way that I see it you are the one who wants to fuck me. I’m cool with some of that mouth loving …

Molly: Fuck you man!!! I paid for your drinks, and I’m getting something back from you.

Power less and semi- naked, I was manhandled back to the silver Civic. We drove for about fifteen or twenty minutes the opposite way of my apartment, until we got to a really nice neighborhood. Molly pulled up to the driveway and got me out of the car. For obvious reasons she wanted to make the least amount of noise, so she left the car’s doors open. That puzzled me because who the hell is going to wake up to the sound of a damn car door a mile away from them? She thought it was the thing to do so I didn’t care.

Once in the house, we made our way to one of the rooms in the lower level of the house, which usually is either the maid’s room or the guest’s room, so I didn’t think much of it. Molly was extremely concerned about silence. I know the situation required it since she was in someone else’s house and stuff, but it was not like a typical concern. I mean this bitch was freaked out about noise. At this point my buzz is going away so I’m noticing all of these things and I’m starting to get concerned, but I was in burning in the pit already so might as well just rollover and enjoy.

We got to the room and fucked a couple of times. Not too bad, but nothing extraordinary either. The only thing that I remember clearly is that when I went for the old finger in the V.J, her labia was so damn fat it took me a minute to find the proper parking spot (I know you know what I mean). Other than that it was normal enjoyable consensual coitus. During this whole thing I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly’s excessive concern for quietness. What was so terrifying about this friend?

All drained out and much sober, I thought that the perfect way to end the night would be to find out why Molly required so much silence.


I yelled shamelessly.

The look on Molly’s eyes was as if I had just killed her Mom. It was a mixture of rage and sadness, so funny Saturday night live writers actually showed up and took pictures for their next skid.

Me: (giggles) sorry I got caught up in the moment.

Molly: We need to get the fuck out of here. Quick get dressed.

She spoke in a lower voice.

We made our way out the door but nothing happened. As we got in the car (still with the doors open), a skinny old white trash looking whore came running out the door dangerously holding something in her hand.


Molly quickly jumped in the car and started it before the white trash could get to us. Without any hesitation and before we could pull away, the old bitch let go this porcelain vase turning the windshield in to a massive cobweb. Not content with that, and unable to get to the car already moving backward, the old white trash tossed a rake, YES!!! A FUCKING RAKE that was lying on the garden, turning part of the windshield in to dust literally.

We pulled out of the neighborhood in absolute astonishment. Molly was visibly upset about this whole situation. She wasn’t as much upset at me as she was at herself for taking a complete stranger back to where she was living. Although I was a little freaked out with the incident, I began to laugh uncontrollably. It wasn’t nervous laughing; it was more like “I can believe this just went down” laughter.

We drove off in frenzy. Making all kinds of noise that probably woke up the entire neighborhood. I think we even knock down a couple of mail boxes along the way, but I can’t remember that clearly as I was blinded by my mild buzz and my uncontrollable laughter.

Me: WTF man!!! Why would you bring me to your mom’s house to fuck? That bitch is clearly out of her mind.

Molly: (shedding a couple of tears) that’s not my mom.

Me: that’s you friend? Ha-ha no way!!!

Molly: I’ll tell you but you can’t laugh about it.

I was laughter dry at that point so I agreed.

Molly: She is my girlfriend.

Me: Girlfriend, like I do the Black Swan girlfriend?

Black Swan is what I called liking the VJ, because of the movie, you know the one with the Lesbos. I had already explained Molly about that at the bar.

Molly: YES!!!

Me: NOOOOO!!!! Ha-ha lesbo MILF fucker, screwing young handsome boy under the same roof? Am I in “the Young and the Restless”? Cause if I’m not I need to send them this story.

Turns out Molly was a bisexual woman who had been in the E- game for a while. She had met White trash old bitch about six months back, and they had met a bunch of times in NYC, where she conducted a lot of her business. Molly confessed of promiscuity some months in to their relationship, to what the old woman grew not so understanding of.Since Molly’s life in NY was so shitty she decided to talk this woman into living together. Apparently the old white trash was hesitant because of the “I fuck everybody” thing with Molly, but eventually agreed under the condition that she would change her ways. Old white trash woman was divorced and very rich, so it seemed to be a good trade for Molly. Clearly she couldn’t help herself with the young stud across the table at the bar.

Notably upset, Molly left me at the parking lot of the bar and left. Before she took off I yelled “CALL ME” but she didn’t seem to want to talk to me and disappeared. With all the adrenaline, sex, and laughter, the liquor had gone through my system and I was sober enough to drive. I went back to my apartment and slept like the king I am, to never hear from my E- fatty ever again.


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